CHAPTER 30!
"What's your strategy?" Haymitch asked me as Cinna made final adjustments on my dress. It was the interview night, and I knew this would be my only chance to stop the games before they began. For the sake of Finnick, and Peeta, and Zahra, and Johanna. And Cashmere and Gloss. Even Clove, who I barely knew. She had kept mostly to herself during training, but I saw her talking to Cashmere a few times. They would probably be allied. But I felt sorry for her. She was barely sixteen, not yet an adult. And she was being led to the slaughter.
I shrugged as my only response to Haymitch's question. As I found out years ago, I wasn't very good at playing angles. I just needed to act like myself, no matter how blunt I could be sometimes. And it had gotten me pretty far. For whatever reason, Peeta had stuck around even after I gave him the cold shoulder for the first year after I found out he was my brother. Finnick still claimed to love me, although he had to put up with my attitude more than anyone.
"Come on, Katniss, do you want Finnick to live or not?"
I glared at him. His words struck home. Little did he know, that was exactly what I had been thinking about. I didn't like being reminded that I would have to make a choice between my closest friends, my husband, and my brother starting in just a few hours, but it was the harsh reality of the situation, and that thought played over and over in my head for the past six months.
"Think about the baby, Katniss," Cinna whispered as he placed a pin by my shoulder, adjusting the neckline. I looked at him sharply. He knew. I wasn't sure how, but somehow, Cinna knew. He read my expression, and saw the desperation in my eyes.
"Can you give us a moment, Haymitch?" Cinna asked. My mentor rolled his eyes and left the room, clearly not liking being left out of the conversation. Cinna smiled at me when Haymitch closed the door.
"How do you know about the baby?" I asked him, my voice coming out harsher than intended. But Cinna accepted it gracefully.
"It's my job to measure your weight and size, as well as your health. That jumpsuit at the opening ceremonies was made to fit you and only you, and it needed adjustments. You may have just gained weight naturally, but based on the data I've received about your health, that's not correct."
"I haven't started to show yet," I protested. I had only gained a pound or two since I conceived. There was no extra baby weight on me.
Cinna shook his head. "Of course not. But as I said, Stylists have access to most of your health records, to monitor allergies, menstrual cycles, physical and mental disabilities, stuff like that to keep you safe while we work. And your records make it quite clear."
"So how did my health records tip you off? I haven't seen a doctor in years, other than my mom." I argued.
Cinna smiled. "You're in the Capitol, darling. Nothing is a secret now. I know you've been eating a bit extra, and I know you've experienced morning sickness, and your menstrual cycle didn't happen this month, or last month."
I didn't say anything. Neither did he. He just continued to watch me, a slight smile on his face
Finally, after several minutes of silence, I said, "I can't go into the arena like this."
"Then don't." Cinna took my hand. "If anyone can stop the games, it's you, Girl on Fire."
...
The interviews were more emotional than any I had ever seen. Cashmere sobbed through hers, and allowed Gloss to do most of the talking. She was a much better actress than I had ever given her credit for. They were allowed to do them together, since they were siblings. Caesar had asked Peeta and I if we wanted to do the same, but Peeta refused abruptly. That probably meant he had a plan. The District 1 siblings spoke about how much they would miss their Capitol family, and how close they had gotten to each other, and everyone else over the years.
Johanna found me backstage, and took in the sight of my outfit. "A wedding dress? Really?" she asked me, a pained look on her face.
I shrugged. "Snow made me wear it."
She grinned a mean little grin. "Make him pay for it."
I figured Johanna would be making her stylist regret the tree dress she wore anyway. I turned back to the interviews just as Beetee began to question the legality of these games, stating that they went against the rules of the Hunger Games. He also pointed out that the Quarter Quell was written into the law by men, so it should easily be unwritten.
"That's a good point," Johanna muttered.
"That's what everyone in District 12 has been saying," I informed her. "I just didn't think anyone would be brave enough to put it into words like that, on live television."
When Finnick went up on the stage, everyone was quiet, dying to hear what he had to say.
"Good evening, Finnick," Caesar said, welcoming him.
"Good evening, Caesar." Finnick clutched a paper in his hands, and I noticed he was wearing his wedding ring. That was a dangerous game. He flashed his signature grin at the audience.
"What's that you've got there?" Caesar asked him, gesturing to the paper he clutched. Finnick unfolded it.
"It's just one last poem that I've composed." Upon Caesar's prompting, Finnick recited it, not even consulting his page once.
"My love, you have my heart
For all eternity.
And if I die in that arena,
My last thought will be of your lips."
I felt my throat turn dry. He would not be dying in that arena. Not if I had anything to say about it.
"Was that written for our very own Girl on Fire?" Caesar asked him, teasingly.
Finnick nodded wordlessly. He was putting on a very good show, convincing the crowd how torn over he was about these games. Of course, very little of it was actually acting.
"My condolences, by the way. It's absolutely devastating that you had to cancel your wedding."
Finnick frowned slightly. "Canceled it? Who said we canceled it?" I felt my heart slow down a bit. He just told them we were married. He was laying all his cards down. I suppose I had to do the same, but it was rather frightening listening to him tell the whole nation about what had happened a few months before.
Caesar was baffled. "Why, I thought we all knew it was! There was no further planning, after the Quarter Quell announcement."
Finnick simply laughed. "Of course we didn't cancel our wedding... President Snow canceled our wedding, because he believed that would be best, in the limited time we had left. However, Katniss and I decided that since at least one of us would be entering the arena, we wanted to share our last few months together. So we had a small, private ceremony, with just a few people."
Caesar leaned forward. "A secret wedding? Who was invited?"
Finnick shrugged. "Just a few people. Close friends and family."
Snow would definitely be angry, hearing about our wedding. The entire point of the ceremony was to prove that Snow had the victors under control, as well as to district the nation from the uprisings. The fact that we got married in private undermined his entire plan. It demonstrated that he didn't have control over us, since we went behind his back, and in doing so, it also further encouraged uprisings.
The buzzer went off, just as Caesar started to ask his next question, and Finnick exited the stage, a small, proud smirk on his face. I wasn't sure if I wanted to smack it off his face, or kiss it.
The remaining interviews went by in a blur as I stood there, frozen in shock. I distantly heard Johanna cursing out the audience, but only because she was screaming so loud. Everything else fell on deaf ears. Before I knew it, Peeta was pushing me forward. I had completely missed my name being called.
"Hello Ms. Everdeen," Caesar said, smiling at me through his purple lips. I smiled at him. I knew what he would be asking about. He took in the sight of my ugly white wedding gown. "What a lovely gown you're wearing. Am I correct in assuming this would be the dress you would wear to your wedding, if it had taken place?"
I swallowed. "Yes. President Snow thought everyone would want to see it." My voice came out dryer and hoarser than I intended it to, so I cleared it when he pulled the microphone away.
"President Snow, as always, was correct. So I assume he didn't know about the elopement that took place?" He asked me pointedly.
"No, as Finnick told you, only a few people knew." I laughed to myself. I figured, since Finnick had laid out his hand, I could do the same. "Actually, his family didn't even know until a day or so later. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. He showed up in District 12, said 'hey, let's get married' and we did, without a second thought." I swallowed again, trying to keep my smile in place. I didn't like telling people about our wedding. That was my wedding, not theirs. They had no business knowing about it. But as Haymitch and I had talked about, I had to do anything I could to stop the Quell.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that," I agreed.
"Finnick's family wasn't there?"
"No, as I said, we got married in District 12." I said shortly, not elaborating further. I didn't want to reveal anything else.
"But then your family was?"
"Some of them," I said.
Caesar finally took the hint. "Well I'm sorry we had to miss the wedding, and if the worst happens, we will miss you, Girl on Fire, and your beautiful outfits."
As he said the words, he gestured for me to twirl, at the same time Cinna did from the audience. So I twirled, and flames sparked at the bottom of the dress, burning upward and taking the dress with it. I kept twirling, panic building in me, desperately hoping Cinna had done all this on purpose. Then the gown began to transform into a darker, shorter, more sensible dress. There were dark feathers decorating it, leading me to believe Cinna had transformed me into some sort of bird.
I stretched out my arms, and wings stretched out with them.
"Wow," Caesar said. "You're like a bird... like a-"
"A mockingjay," I said, a bit breathless. I really hoped Cinna knew what he was doing. The rebellious actions behind this dress was overwhelming.
The buzzer went off amidst the chaos, and I was escorted off the stage as Peeta was brought in.
Caesar talked to him about the normal things, how much we would all miss him, if he left a girlfriend behind, simple things like that, until he finally asked, "Now Peeta, I'm dying to know. Were you at the wedding?"
Peeta smiled at him. "Only Prim was there at the justice building, to sign the paperwork as their witness. But I was invited to the reception."
"So tell us about that? I've tried desperately to get details from the couple themselves, but neither of them seem too willing to talk about it."
"Well, Caesar, it's really none of my business to say anything about it if they don't want to... but I can say this: They're very happy and I'm glad they decided to do it. In fact, I don't think they would have any regrets at all if it weren't..." He swallowed and I watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he was going to say. Nothing could have prepared me for it. "If it weren't..."
"If it weren't for what?" Caesar asked.
"If it weren't for the baby," Peeta blurted out, timing it perfectly so that the buzzer went off just as he said the words.
Everyone screamed. I could distinctly hear several voices shouting for the Games to be canceled. Caesar stood in shock, muttering "What" over and over again. The victors stood, lined up in two lines on the stage, and I was escorted into place between Chaff and my treacherous brother. I felt Peeta's hand close over my own. I felt burning rage, but I didn't pull away. I knew why he did it, and I could only hope that it worked. I grabbed on to Chaff's stumped arm with my other hand, and all twenty-four tributes raised their clasped hands above their heads, sending a clear message to the Capitol. Then the lights went dark, as soon as we united together.
I felt someone grab my arm and pull me off the stage. It was lighter backstage, and I realized it was Finnick, so I allowed him to lead me into the elevator. He deserved an explanation. He pressed the button that would let us out onto the roof. He stared at me for a few seconds, and then lowered himself to the floor, his back against the wall, staring at me with red-rimmed eyes. Neither of us spoke, for fear of being overheard by the bugs. I sat down across from him, wrapping my arms around my body. It was impossible to read his expression. He was clearly upset, but I couldn't tell if he was angry or sad or nervous. Maybe all three. Probably all three.
Finally, the doors opened, and we both stood up, and stepped outside. Finnick wordlessly walked over to the railing, leaning on it, staring over the edge. I followed him, and stood a few paces behind him, waiting for him to react. I swallowed, and watched the brightly colored Capitol citizens celebrate the Games. There were less down there than usual, which was a good sign to me. It meant many of them were against the Quell.
"Are you pregnant, Katniss?" Finnick asked me finally, his voice soft.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He glanced over his shoulder at me, sensing the movement. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.
I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sob, as I finally started crying. I tried to blame it on hormones, but I knew there was more to it. The sight of my tears seemed to break something in Finnick, and he got rid of the mask of calm he was trying to keep in place. He grabbed onto me, pulling me into him. One arm went around my waist, and the other around my shoulders, patiently waiting for me to answer. He stroked my hair gently, as I desperately tried to regain control of my emotions.
"I want you to leave the arena in one piece," I told him, when I regained control of myself. "I knew there would be no chance of that if you knew I was pregnant."
"Of course not." He said simply, leaving no room for argument. I took a deep breath.
"I also didn't want to get your hopes up. The chances of me living are already slim, and the baby's are even slimmer." I said. He looked at me sternly. "Don't look at me like that, Finnick. You know I'm right. Snow will never let me win." I lowered my voice. "Not with my mockingjay being the symbol of the rebellion."
"What rebellion?" Finnick asked, frowning. But something flickered in his eyes. Fear, perhaps.
I waved my hand impatiently. "I'm not stupid, Finnick. I know that there are uprisings and rebellions, and you do too.:
Finnick exhaled, but didn't answer. Instead, He knelt down, and put a hand over my stomach. "How far along are you?" He asked, changing the subject.
"Eight weeks." I answered, my voice softening.
"Only Peeta knew?"
I nodded. "I had to tell someone," I said. "Originally, I wanted to get an abortion. I didn't think it was fair to bring a child into a world like this, I especially didn't think it would be fair to the baby that I went into the arena while pregnant. I don't think that will have many positive effects on their development." Finnick glanced up at me, and I continued. "Peeta talked me out of it. I'm glad he did. My emotions were running high, and I was scared, and you had just left for the Capitol and..."
Finnick cut me off by standing up and kissing me softly, then pulling away. "This is why you were upset the other night," He said.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I was just so worried about the baby, and you and..."
He pulled me in tightly. "There's nothing to be worried about," He told me quietly. "Nothing at all."